Cracked Mirrors
by The Rose Society
Summary: She was an actress at the height of her fame; he was a college student desperate for a job. What trouble ensues when Fate throws them together?


*Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed…permanently! ::dashes off,  
laughing maniacally::  
  
Cracked Mirrors  
Chapter 1  
By: The Rose Society  
Rating: PG-13  
Email: EtrlSlrMn@aol.com  
http://www.wishing-blue.net/kii/  
  
It all started with the bane of every college student's life.  
  
Money.  
  
I needed money to survive, especially if I wanted to eat, and  
therefore, I had to confront another obstacle.  
  
A job.  
  
Back in high school, I had done some modeling, since that was  
the only job that I had skills for and would pay me a decent salary.  
With that job, and careful saving and investing, I had earned enough  
to afford the rent on my apartment, as well as pay for my car (a very,  
very NICE red sport car) and insurance. By my senior year, I had grown  
tired of being photographed, ordered around, and what not. So,  
instead of modeling, I decided to be an intern at a local television  
station. For five years, I had done well for myself, getting  
experience in a variety of fields, such as advertising (I spent all  
day on the phone, harassing companies to place commercials on our  
channel), set design and set up, and working in the office.  
  
But, after my fifth year, which was my final year as a college  
undergraduate, the television station that I worked for was bought by  
another company. So, to my dismay, I found myself without a job, and  
about to enter graduate school. I needed income, and fast.  
  
To compound my bad luck, the economy was in a slump, so no one  
was hiring, especially an ex-model with experience in television, with  
only a bachelors of science degree. I had already been accepted into  
medical school, due to my stellar academic record, but the school was  
highly competitive and I wasn't able to obtain a scholarship.  
  
So I found myself with no job, no prospects of one, and facing  
the deadline of my school fees and rent in about a week. Choices,  
choices. I could either give up school for the next semester until I  
could get a job, or I could beg my landlord to allow me to go one  
month without paying rent. I grimaced. Darien Malone does not beg.  
But neither did I want to quit school for a semester. Doing so would  
mean that I would have to reapply next semester and I might not be  
able to get in. Argh.  
  
I decided that blind panic wouldn't be of much help to me  
right now, so I decided that I need to relax. Get a cup of coffee,  
sit in a relaxing atmosphere, and pour my troubles out to my best  
friend, Andrew.  
  
As I headed out of my apartment, making sure to lock the door,  
I realized that I hadn't introduced myself. As I stated earlier, my  
name is Darien Malone. I am 22 years old. I was orphaned as a child,  
and became a ward of the state, not exactly something I relish  
remembering. I was shuttled from foster home to foster home, my  
recalcitrant and introverted nature making most of my foster parents  
nervous and uncomfortable around me. By age 18, I had graduated from  
high school here in sunny California, and had developed into an adult,  
in the eyes of the state. I received what money my parents had saved  
before they died, plus interest, as well as a little bundle from the  
government. Besides that, I had also saved as much as possible from  
my modeling days. Luckily for me, my jet-black hair and piercing blue  
eyes, as one photographer described them, were able to net me a tidy  
sum. With my money, I was able to rent a loft and scraped together  
some furniture. I went to a local university, preferring to live in  
my tiny apartment and commute via my car, which I'm sure I mentioned  
before, instead of going through the torture of being set up by the  
university's computer and getting two roommates that I would probably  
end up despising.  
  
Don't get me wrong; I'm not anti-social. But then again, I'm  
not exactly a party animal. You see, ever since I was a child, I  
learned that you can't trust people on sight. Trust has to be earned,  
or else you could end up badly hurt. Bouncing from foster home to  
foster home would teach you that, I suppose. Despite my tendency to  
shy away from people, I do have a few friends. Andrew for one. He's  
been my closest friend since childhood. In junior high, I met a few  
other people whom I do occasionally hang out with. But if I were to  
have to choose between a party and staying at home, I'd stay at home.  
  
As I entered the glass doors of the café and arcade that  
Andrew worked in, I found myself a tiny bit envious of my friend. He  
was blonde, a definite plus in Californian society, I suppose. He has  
light green eyes, and a ready smile for anyone he sees. But it's not  
those things that I envy. It's the fact that Andrew has a younger  
sister named Elizabeth, two loving parents, who happen to own the café  
and arcade that their children work at, as well as some other stores,  
and a fiancee. I've often wondered what it would be like to be with  
people who love you unconditionally. I know that Andrew, as sensitive  
as he is, has picked up on this and tries not to bring up his family  
too much around me, but I know that he and his sister are very close,  
despite their occasional spats, and he has a great relationship with  
his parents. And as much as he tries to hide it, I know that he and  
Rita are madly in love. When Rita walks into the café, I can  
practically see Andrew light up like a Christmas light. He gets one  
of those goofy smiles on his face, which he vehemently denies, and  
everyone else seems to cease to exist for him.  
  
But as quickly as this feeling comes, it disappears under a  
wave of guilt. Andrew is my closest friend, one of the few that  
actually tried to befriend me. I am happy for him. It's just that  
when I see him with Rita, I find myself faced with the fact that I  
don't have a person out there that loves me like that, that makes me  
feel special, that can fill my entire universe with their presence to  
the exclusion of all else. Seeing that Andrew was busy talking with  
some blonde, I took a seat at a stool on the café side of the store,  
waiting for Andrew to finish talking to the woman. I nodded when  
Andrew looked my way for a moment before turning his attention back to  
the person in front of him. Finding myself temporarily without  
anything to do, I gave my order to one of the waitresses, and tried to  
ignore the animated conversation just two stools over.  
  
"Andrew, I swear, this is a disaster!" The woman's voice was  
strained and seemed to be on the verge of tears or panic.  
  
"Come on, Sere, I'm sure that things will work out."  
  
The woman thunked her head against the counter a few times.  
"Andrew, you don't get it. I need to find an assistant, and fast!  
You know that with all the work that I have going on, I could never  
get everything straight. The studio execs would kill me after a day!"  
Odd, the woman's voice seemed to be quite familiar to me, but I  
shrugged off the feeling. I don't think I've ever met a woman with  
such long hair; I'm sure I would have remembered. She had hair past  
the stool, which meant that standing up, her hair would probably reach  
her knees; more if she took out the twin buns that the streamers were  
cascading out of. So much hair, I wonder how women do it. I'm sure  
that I'd probably trip over it or get it all dirty or something.  
Thank goodness I was a guy.  
  
"Sere, don't cry. You know I hate it when you cry. Besides,  
you can't be noticed here, for your own good." Andrew sounded rather  
alarmed. Then again, I wasn't surprised. The man was too sensitive  
for his own good. One sniffly female and he'd fall apart. Something  
that he said struck me as odd. I don't get it. Why did he warn her  
not to be noticed? Was she on the run or something? I really  
shouldn't be eavesdropping. This was undoubtedly a private matter of  
the young woman and she probably wouldn't appreciate me knowing.  
  
I heard two wet-sounding plops hitting the counter; the woman  
was definitely beginning to cry. I could practically see Andrew's  
stress meters hit the red zone. "Please don't cry, Sere. I'll do  
anything, SERE, JUST DON'T CRY!" Poor Andrew had yelled the last  
part, probably going insane due to the situation. Wait a minute…Sere,  
why was that name ringing a bell in my head?  
  
Heads turned, Andrew's yells getting their attention. All of  
a sudden, chaos seemed to break out. Young girls began to squeal, in  
that annoying way that only teenagers can, high-pitched and LOUD. The  
boys in the store began to turn their heads and their mouths fell  
open, like those cartoon characters where the character turns into a  
wolf. Pure and utter shock. Soon the youngsters ran towards the  
counter, as the blonde's head jerked up in shock, shooting an icy  
glare at Andrew. Andrew, for his part, managed to noticed the glare  
and gulp while also eyeing the crowd and backing up, his hands raised  
in surrender.  
  
"Andrew, you DUNCE," yelled the blonde, right before a  
woman-eating crowd of teens surrounded her.  
  
Immediately, my ears were assailed with shouts of "Serenity,"  
"Miss De Luna," and "CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH!" My chest became  
permanently imprinted with an indent of the counter as the crowd  
pushed against my back, in an effort to get closer to the woman. As I  
struggled for breath, I realized why the woman had seemed so familiar.  
She was Serenity De Luna, a famous actress. She was one of the  
hottest things in Hollywood. However, instead of following this  
illumination further, I found that I had to stop thinking about the  
woman and start to think of how I could get some air. The group of  
human bodies was thicker than mosquitoes.  
  
"Andrew, HELP," came the plaintive cry of the woman, from  
somewhere to my left. The sounds of shrieking fans weren't helping  
her voice to carry very far. Andrew, who had turned quite pale when  
he saw the wave of humanity rushing towards him, like a tsunami, tried  
to pry some of the hands off of the woman. He must have spotted me,  
trying to beat off the people in my way in a futile effort to  
extricate myself from the mob, because Andrew then shouted, "Darien,  
get her out of here through the back. I'll take care of the crowd."  
  
As hands pushed against my face, trying to reach the starlet  
amongst us, I shouted back at my obviously insane friend. "Andrew, do  
you SEE how many people are around us? You think I can get her out of  
here? I can't even get out myself and I'm not even their target!"  
  
I could hear Andrew grunting as he probably started in towards  
the woman. "Fine. I'll get Sere out of here and YOU can take care of  
the crowd."  
  
I looked at the mob, feeling acutely the hand against my nose  
and the waving hands bumping into my chest, and shook my head. "Never  
mind, Andrew. I'll take the girl, you get the crowd." I didn't even  
wait for my friend to answer before I began to shove my way through  
the melee. The teens were a good deal younger than myself and I knew  
from more than one New Year's party how to make my way into a morass  
of bodies. "Hey, you, give me your hand," I yelled as I stuck my arm  
out towards the approximate center of the mass.  
  
A slender hand grabbed my own, and I figured I probably had  
Serenity. With all my strength, I kind of hauled her bodily through  
the crowd, as one might pull a rope, and found myself next to a  
shorter, blonde person. Not checking to see if I had the right  
person, I lifted the girl over my head (thank goodness for martial  
arts) and began to hotfoot it as best as I could towards the employee  
lounge. Luckily for me, Andrew was immediately at my back, although I  
had no idea how he made it over the counter and through the crowd, and  
was beating back the teens. Slowly, I made my way through to the  
door, which Andrew locked behind us.  
  
"Hurry, Darien, get Sere out of here! Those teens are going  
to go around to the back any second now," Andrew said as he used his  
weight to secure the door.  
  
I put down the woman and looked at my friend. "Where the heck  
should I take her?"  
  
The continued shouts of the actress's name could be heard  
through the door. As Andrew turned to reply to my question, a series  
of thuds could be heard and the door Andrew leaned against shook.  
Obviously, the crowd wanted to get through. "Just take her to your  
apartment for now, Darien," Andrew grunted, as he reapplied his  
concentration on the door. "I'll go there as soon as possible."  
  
I looked at the blonde woman, who looked like she was about to  
protest. But before either of us could complain, the door began to  
shake again, bouncing Andrew against it like he was a rubber ball.  
  
"GO, and hurry, you two," Andrew shouted.  
  
Not wanting to face the mob again, who was probably shouting  
for my blood anyways, I hefted up the blonde like a sack of potatoes  
and ran out of the lounge. Entering the parking lot, I spotted my car  
even as I heard the crowd shouting. They had seen us and were  
probably in pursuit. Grabbing the keys out of my pocket with my free  
hand, I unlocked the doors via the remote, dumped the woman into the  
passenger seat, jumped into the driver seat and hurriedly closed and  
locked the doors. As soon as I did so, the fastest fans reached us,  
their screams muffled but still very loud. Their hands began to pound  
my car's windows as I started the engine.  
  
"Get out of the way," I yelled as I began to drive. Thank  
goodness that the crowd wasn't so crazed as to get run over to see  
Serenity De Luna. They parted, although I had to use my car much like  
a plow. Eventually, we were able to get onto the streets and through  
the crowd. I gunned the engine and made for my apartment.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
I whipped my head around, surprised. After all the chaos, I  
had forgotten that the object of this entire mess was sitting next to  
me in my car. "We're headed towards my apartment."  
  
Those blue eyes narrowed, the set of her mouth clearly  
speaking of her anger. "I do NOT think so. I don't even know who the  
hell you are! I'm not going anywhere with you!"  
  
I grimaced as I took a shortcut, looking to see if anyone was  
following us. "You weren't complaining about that a second ago!"  
  
I could see irritation simmer under the surface as she bit  
out, "I was slung over your shoulder, being jostled with every step  
you took, while indiscriminate hands were trying to tear me limb from  
limb. I didn't have much opportunity to complain then!" She let out  
a squeak as I took a turn a little too fast and she grabbed the handle  
on the car door in order to steady herself. "Look, you maniac, I  
don't even know who you are, or where you're taking me, but I want out  
of this car right now!"  
  
Amused, I looked at the blonde. "I'd be happy to oblige, my  
lady, but as you can see, we have at least five cars in hot pursuit  
behind us. Even if I were to stop and let you out, you'd be eaten up  
by your fans immediately. Our only hope is to get to my apartment  
building, which has excellent security. That way, you'll be safe."  
  
Serenity frowned as she looked behind us, noticing the cars  
giving chase. "Why can't we go to my place?" Her tone was less  
defiant and angered now, more confused than anything else.  
  
I sighed. Was she seriously that dense? "If we went to your  
place, the fans would definitely find out where you lived. I take it  
from Andrew's earlier treatment of you that you don't exactly like  
giving out your personal information to the general public." I heard  
her sigh and took that as a sign that she agreed. "Good, then it's  
settled. We'll go to my place and wait to hear from Andrew. My name  
is Darien Malone, by the way."  
  
Sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest,  
the blonde was clearly fuming but had decided to keep her opinions to  
herself. "Serenity De Luna." She stated her name simply and  
concisely, no doubt to make clear to me that conversation wasn't  
welcome at the moment.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, I acquiesced to her unspoken request and  
decided not to talk to her anymore. With silence filling the car, I  
kept my eyes on the road and made my way to my apartment, not knowing  
that today was the beginning of a new chapter in my life.  
  
Author Notes:  
  
As you can see, I'm starting a new story. I hope that it's  
enjoyable. This is just a tidbit to see if anyone else likes it.  
Until the next chapter...  
  
~The moonlight carries the message of love.~  
~Tsuki no hikari wa ai no message.~ 


End file.
